When Glasses Break
by Ski-0
Summary: Narry's first time on stage is interrupted ... and he causes an accident where Harry Potter loses his glasses. Harry is confused, Narry is angry, Legolas wants all the love and Darth Vader just wants a son. All of this is only even more complicated, with
1. Accidents and Broken Glasses

**When Glasses Are Broken**

_A/N: This was originally a little play/drama thing my class did at school. It's not altogether following the original plotline - I changed a few things to suit myself. I apologise to my classmates if they aren't too fond of the little updated version._

_This little fic is dedicated to my buddies in 2 Damai. Thanks for being such geat friends, and I'll miss you guys when we're all in different classes next year. I know you guys have seen this play in action ... so, now you can read it in action! If that even makes sense ..._

_Disclaimer: I don't own HP, Star Wars, LoTR or anything else in this fic. The only thing I own will have to be the sorry, sad excuse of a plotline._

X

A young man of a past unknown stepped out of the darkness, smiling nervously and holding a sheet of paper. He seemed excited about something, and every once in a while, he would give a whispered 'Yes!' and punch the air with his fist. He stepped up to the stage, and everyone in the audience applauded politely. He gave a little bow, and took the microphone in his shaking hand.

'Good evening everybody,' he said. 'This is my first time on stage, so ... bear with me, and I promise I'll do my best!' He smiled another nervous smile. Someone in the audience coughed.

He swallowed, and wiped away the sweat from his brow with his handkerchief.

'Erm ... right. So, I'll start now.'

Another cough.

'Ahem. Five minutes ago, in a place called the "Planet of Ridiculous Happenings", something ridiculous was happening.' His voice was shaking a bit, but he slowly got over his nerves. Suddenly, there was a noise from the audience, like someone trying to snap their fingers, but failing horribly. Everyone stared in the direction of the sound and saw a teenager standing, her hand held up in front of her. She kept flicking her middle finger against her thumb, looking frustrated. Finally, there was a snapping noise, and the girl grinned evilly.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. The stage, the audience - his beautiful audience! - disappeared. The young man gasped and nearly dropped his papers, but he clutched them tightly.

He was in blue, blue stretching forever in all directions. He looked down, puzzled. And screamed.

He was in mid-air. And falling. Fast.

But, through the blur of wind, and the ground closing in on him, he could see a blur of red, and brown hurtling towards him. Before he had time to think, the object crashed into him, and he heard a voice yell 'Ow!'. Now, both were hurtling down, down, down ...

The girl appeared again, right next to him, her hand held in front of her, like before.

'What do you think you're -' he yelled, as the girl again, tried to snap her fingers desperately.

'Oh no,' she squeaked, as the ground and their impending doom came closer. 'Oh snap!' she screamed.

There was a loud crack, and the ground, the rushing wind ... they disappeared.

There was somebody on him. A somebody with messy black hair, and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

'Harry Potter?' he scurried out of the way, staring at the boy lying down in front of him. The boy stirred.

'Who are you?' he said warily, reaching into his pocket, and pulling out his wand. He was fumbling around, disoriented, since that his glasses were lying some metres away, the glass shattered.

Unbeknowst to the two young men, the teenage girl was now sitting three metres away, making a mud cake, humming cheerfully. Two other girls were with her, one sprinkling water onto the sloppy mixture, and the other pouring in some odd purple substance into it. Harry and Narry (Yes, that was his name. Maybe that's why they picked him for 'narrator' ...) seemed to ignore this very vital piece of information.

'Just a tad more Confusement Concoction there,' said the first girl. More of the purple substance was added.

'You ruined my moment!' cried Narry, close to tears. 'I've never been on stage before ... it's all your fault!'

Harry blinked, confused. He squinted and said, 'You aren't a Death Eater, are you? You're way too whiny to be one ...'

'Now,' all three girls nodded to each other happily and skipped out of the way.

Narry charged, his hands outstretched. 'Die!' he yelled maniacaly, pushing Harry into the very convenient and unsuspicious mud cake with purple sparks dancing over it. Nope, not suspicious in the least.

Harry lost balance, and fell backwards into the muck, his body arching gracefully. Somewhere on that strange plane of existence, a row of girls wearing turqoise blue uniforms held up number cards. A few read '8.5' and some had a '9'. One of them had 'I LOVE YOU, HARRY!' written in large pink writing.

Moving on ...

He fell into the mud, and almost immediately, his mind went blank, and his thoughts were slowed down. He sat up slowly, blinking stupidly. A girl with messy black hair crept up behind him, a pair of scissors in her hand. Laughing evilly, she snipped off his hair (not all of it) and ran off, clutching a handful of very muddy hairs. Harry didn't seem to notice this. He stood up, and looked down at himself. It took a while to register what he was seeing.

He stared straight ahead, blinking stupidly. 'I'm muddy,' he said slowly, as Narry was dragged away by the Fiction Police.

'I'm innocent!' Narry shrieked. 'Innocent, I tell you!'

'You're under arrest for attacking a fictional character. That's under Code 2 D, under category S A. You'r coming with us.' The Fiction Police clamped a pair of manacles onto Narry's wrists. Still shrieking, they dragged him away.

Meanwhile, Harry blinked again, and said, 'I think I need a bath.'

X

_A/N: So ... loved it? Hated it? Drop me a review and tell me what you think. :)_


	2. Dungeons and Fangirls

**When Glasses Are Broken**

**Chapter 2**

_Disclaimer: I still do not own anything here. I do not even own the crazy fangirls running amok around the place. All I own is the plotline ... and even then, I had a little help from my schoolmates. Yeah._

_Warning: There are Half-Blood Prince spoilers in this chapter. You have been warned._

_Ps. Celebrity names in this fic have been subsituted. But ya'll know who I mean! ;)_

**.x.**

Narry sat in his prison cell, feeling depressed. It wasn't his fault he was sitting in there. All he had done was push a fictional character into a puddle of muck. He hated it in here. It was cold, and there were these odd floating things wearing black cloaks. These odd floating things were talking to each other. Their voices hurt poor Narry's ears, but he was too interested in the conversation they were having to mind ...

'And then, this man came along and chased me away with a stick of fire! How is that fair, I ask you? I was just doing my job. So what, if I pierced the little bugger with the stinking blade? He was using the ring!' hissed one of the creatures angrily. This particular creature was sitting on a large, black, sinister-looking horse.

'Now now, don't be too upset, ol' chap,' said another creature comfortingly. 'One time, me and the guys were going to this game ... nice lot of souls there, we were planning on having a feast. But then this old bearded guy went and spoiled all the fun. We never got our dinner, and we were starving at that.'

'Too bad, Bob ol' boy,' said the first creature, shaking his head. 'Old bearded guy, you say? Would his name happen to be Gandalf the Grey?'

'No,' said the creature called Bob, 'It was Dumbledore.'

'I heard he was dead?'

'Yeah. Snape got rid of him.'

'Good riddance. These good guys need to be taught a thing or two.'

'Too true, too true ...'

Narry shivered. 'Taught a thing or two'? He didn't like the sound of that.

Suddenly, with a sound like a chicken clucking, the Snapping-Fingers girl appeared next to him, with one of her little friends, who was clutching a chicken.

'Hello,' said Snapping-Fingers cheerfully. The girl next to her said something in a language that Narry didn't understand. 'Ayam goreng makan ayam.' With that, she tickled the chicken's beak.

Snapping-Fingers shrugged and said, 'She says "hello" too.'

Narry stared. Another girl appeared, holding a pair of scissors. She stared at him. Narry honestly did not know what to do anymore.

'We're here to bust you out,' said Snapping-Fingers proudly. She showed him an inflatable plastic mallet.

'But there's a catch,' said Scissors-Girl, waving the scissors around happily.

Before Narry could ask, the creature on the horse and Bob were opening the cell door.

'It's time to carry out your sentence,' hissed Bob in a voice that vaguely resembled the sound of a punctured tyre.

Narry turned to Snapping-Fingers for help. But to his frustration, all three girls and the chicken were gone. He was alone again. The creatures reached forwards and gripped him under the armpits and began dragging him away. 'Where are you taking me?' Narry asked uncertainly, kicking out feebly.

'You'll see.' Both creatures laughed harshly. Narry gulped.

The trip to wherever was a long one. Sweat dripped down Narry's nose, and there was a streak of yellow-coloured floor following him. He frowned, then realised that the previously grey stone (or so it seemed) floor was actually bright yellow and tiled. Now he felt sick. How often did they clean this place anyway?

Finally, they stopped. There was the sound of a door creaking open, and a silence. They picked him up by the collar and tossed him into the room unceremoniously. Narry struggled to his feet, and stared at the room around him. It was painted a bright, blinding pink, and there were posters on the walls. Two teenage girls were sitting cross-legged on the bed, chatting continously. Narry glanced at the posters. 'Whitney Steers?' he scrunched up his face, 'Hilary Puff? Yuck!'

There was a silence. the two girl had stopped chatting, and were staring at him, scandalized. Narry realised that he had made a terrible mistake. Both girls had gotten off the bed, their hands outsretched and claw-like, and their eyes burning. 'Oh no,' Narry muttered.

**.x.**

Meanwhile, Harry was pacing the area, quite confused, but looking quite determined. 'Glasses,' he mumbled. 'Must find glasses ...'

A random bushy-haired girl walked up to him, holding out a pile of books labeled 'Harry Potter'. Harry signed each of them without a second thought, and continued pacing while the girl screamed herself silly before running away, leaping with excitement.

Just then, Frodo and Legolas appeared out of nowhere, followed by a trail of fangirls. One of the fangirls looked rather disgruntled. 'Why can't we run after James Lafferty?' she pouted. Another one of the girls shrugged. 'Plot purposes.'

'Eh ...' Frodo glanced up at Legolas. 'Shouldn't you be Sam?'

'Oh ...' said Legolas shiftily. 'He ... had something to do.'

Halfway across the planet, Sam was tied to a large goal-hoop, surrounded by a bunch of little kids with water guns. 'Er ... help?' he called out helplessly.

Back to the present situation ...

'Hey, look!' Frodo bent over and picked something out of a mud puddle. 'Eww,' he wiped his muddy hand on his cloak, and studied the object he had picked up. It was a pair of glasses. Shattered glasses. But for some odd reason ... his hand was reacting very oddly to it ...

'Let me see,' said Legolas, tossing a piece of used tissue over his shoulder. The group of rabid fangirls raced forwards and began tearing at each other's hair, trying to get to the unsanitary piece of former tree trunk.

'No!' Frodo clutched the glasses harder, his eyes flashing wildly. 'Mine!'

Legolas frowned and swished his long blonde hair which had never been that evident in the books. The fangirls promptly fainted. 'Whatever.' He took out a script. 'We should be destroying it now, right?'

'No destroy!' cried Frodo, who was now foaming at the mouth.

'Eh ... okay, let's got to Mount Doom for ... some cupcakes. Yeah, cupcakes.'

'Cupcakes?' Frodo's eyes brightened.

Legolas nodded solemnly.

Harry, however, was quite oblivious to what had just happened. 'I can't find my glasses!' he stated matter-of-factly. Snapping-Fingers appeared at his side, sighed and rolled her eyes. She scurried away, to where a group of girls were busy painting a banner with fabric-paint, and using their hands to print a border around it. She muttered something to them, sat down next to them and proceeded to paint her palm with some green paint.


End file.
